


Duet in Five Movements

by ashindk



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Gardens & Gardening, M/M, Music, Piano
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-01 23:14:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2791226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashindk/pseuds/ashindk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco loves to play the piano. Harry loves the gardens at Malfoy Manor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duet in Five Movements

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sylvaticginger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvaticginger/gifts).



> This was written as a pinch hit, so it’s relatively short. It secretly wants to be a much longer story, though! Thank you so much sylvaticginger, for giving me an excuse to write gardener!Harry. I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time, so when this came along, I knew I had to accept! Also thank you to emhemm and lyonessheart for the last minute beta-job.

Draco feels the last strands of music die away, but keeps his hands resting lightly on the keys. His eyes open and he lets his gaze wander past the piano to the open window. If Potter has been listening, he doesn’t let on. He’s got his back turned and is bent over one of the sculpted hedges. Potter never gives any indication if he’s listening to the music. Sometimes Draco wonders if he should just give up. Close the window, or not play at all. But some tiny part of him always keeps hoping that one day, Potter will react. Draco allows himself to let his eyes rest on Potter’s shoulders, admiring the way they stretch his thin summer shirt. Just for a moment. Then he gently closes the lid over the piano keys, spells the window shut and makes his way to the library.

\- - -

Harry opens his eyes and stretches his aching back. Malfoy’s music always makes him want to stop what he’s doing, close his eyes and just listen. He doesn’t know why Malfoy always has to play with the window open, even in winter, but he can just imagine those long, slender fingers dancing over the ivory and ebony, creating not only music, but haunting, beautiful stories made of sound.

He picks up his shears and takes a step back from the holly and fir wreath he’s been arranging. He tilts his head, and snips away one last sprig. There. Perfect. He smiles.

It’s taken him a few years, but the gardens at Malfoy Manor are almost back to their former glory now. He remembers the overgrown wilderness they were, when Malfoy first approached him, enquiring about his work. He’d been at one of the many memorial balls thrown by the Ministry after the war, wishing he was somewhere else. Anywhere else, really. Standing in his formal robes, listening to speeches and looking solemn had never been one of his strong suits. Malfoy had played the piano that night as well. Later, he’d approached Harry and asked him about the chances of restoring the gardens to the way they used to be. That had been back when he and Neville had just started their business, and he hadn’t really known what to make of the offer to come and have a look at the manor grounds. Now, they’re the best parts of his week. He picks up his tools and slowly makes his way back over the gleaming, snow covered lawn to the gates, humming the carol Malfoy just played.

\- - -

Draco opens the window and lets his eyes wander over the spring green trees and clusters of cheery, red tulips lining the lawns, to the greenhouse where he knows Potter will be today. He knows, because Potter always works on the roses on Friday mornings. In the garden in summer, and in the greenhouse in spring. And when he’s done, he places a single, perfect, white rose on the newest grave at the family cemetery at the bottom of the garden. It’ll still be fresh when Draco goes to visit his mother on Saturday morning. That’s the way it’s been ever since she died almost a year ago. She’d been so happy when Potter started working on the gardens, and not only because he’d brought her beloved roses back to life. ‘You should talk to Harry more often,’ she’d told him a few days before she’d died. ‘He’s a very nice young man. You should get to know him better.’

But today Potter isn’t there. Instead someone else is moving around behind clear glass and green painted metal, carefully spelling away the flowers that are starting to droop. Someone much taller than Potter, with a sturdier frame and mousy brown hair. Longbottom. Draco closes the window without playing a single note.

\- - -

Harry is still moving a bit slowly, but he’s happy to get back to work. It’s been almost two weeks since he was at Malfoy Manor, and he’s missed it. He allows himself a careful smile, and it almost doesn’t hurt. If someone had told him ten years ago, when he was still at Hogwarts, that he’d miss these specific gardens, he’d have told them they were barmy. And if someone had told him that thinking about Malfoy playing the piano would make the pain bearable, when all he wanted was to sob into his pillow, he’d have told them they’d clearly been Confunded.

He scans the garden for anything amiss, but Neville seems to have done a good job of keeping everything in order. It’s Monday, so he makes his way to the flowerbeds lining the house. This is one of his favourite places to work. It’s a nice, secluded spot: the stone walls keep it cool in summer and shelter it from the icy gusts of wind in winter. And it’s right below the window where Malfoy usually plays.

He casts a few extra Cushioning Charms before he kneels and starts pulling up the stubborn dandelions that are always trying to strangle the roses. He’s been working for almost ten minutes, when he finally hears the soft creak of the window. He carefully keeps his head down, pretending that he hasn’t noticed. But when a few minutes pass without any music drifting down, he chances a look up. The window’s been closed. Something heavy settles in his stomach, and he pulls at the weeds more forcefully. What’s wrong? Has Malfoy finally noticed that he stops working whenever he hears him play? Or is he angry that Harry has been unable to come to work? He grabs a stinging nettle, not caring that he’s not put his gloves on, and curses quietly, when it burns the soft skin on his palm. 

“Are you all right, Potter?” 

Harry’s head snaps up so fast, he winces a little. Apparently his neck hasn’t quite recovered yet. Malfoy is standing on the edge of the lawn, looking slightly alarmed by his outburst.

“Erm… yes?” he offers. He’s not really sure if it’s the truth. But it’s a polite answer, at least.

“You’ve been away.” It’s not a question, exactly, but Malfoy still looks like he’s expecting an answer.

“Yes. I had an accident. But I trust that Neville’s been keeping everything in order while I was gone? Or is there something you’d like me to fix?”

“No. No! Everything is fine. I just… noticed that you weren’t here. Erm... I mean…” He frowns. “What happened? In your accident? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Harry feels his lips curl up in a tiny, sad smile. He’s been thinking about Malfoy coming down here to talk, and now he’ll say something sarcastic, or mocking, and leave again. He answers anyway.

“I fell out of a tree.”

“You fell out of a tree?” Malfoy’s tone is flat, like he can´t quite believe him. He’ll probably have to tell the whole story. 

“I fell out of a tree, because I was trying to collect a swarm of bees from a branch for my hive.”

Malfoy’s face does something complicated, that Harry can’t quite follow. He makes a choked off sound like he’s trying to suppress a laugh, and schools his face back into a slight frown.

“That’s... unfortunate. I hope you weren’t hurt too badly?”

“I got stung by a few bees, but I’m used to that by now. And I broke a few bones. But nothing that a good rest and a few doses of Skelegro couldn’t fix.”

“Broken bones? You shouldn’t be working so soon!”

Right. Malfoy wants someone who can do a decent job. Keeping these gardens is not easy, and he is moving a bit slower than usual.

“Oh. The Healers said it’s okay. I’m not going to charge you for the extra hours, just because I’m moving a bit slowly. But if you’d rather, I can have Neville come by...” 

“No! That’s not what I meant! Please. Come inside and have a cup of tea. The gardens will be fine.”

“But I don’t want to interrupt your playing.” He looks up at Malfoy, and when he notices his small, but genuinely pleased smile, he adds. “I always enjoy listening to your music while I work.”

The smile grows. 

“I… could play for you while we have tea?” Malfoy suggests.

Malfoy extends a hand. He grabs it, grateful for the help, and gets up. Malfoy’s grip is stronger that he’d have thought. His hand is slender and warm, and Harry finds himself reluctant to let go. He does, though, and follows Malfoy into the house.

\- - -

Draco’s just finished rehearsing one of the more complicated pieces for the New Year’s concert, when he hears the clatter of feet in the hallway, indicating that Harry’s back.

“Draco?” 

“I’m in here!”

Harry comes bursting in through the door, bringing with him a gust of cold wind, and the smell of snow. He leans in and kisses his cheek, and Draco shudders at the icy lips on his skin. He chases Harry’s mouth for another kiss anyway. 

“Did you get the one you wanted?” 

“Yes. We’re ready for tomorrow. All that’s left is bringing it in and decorating it.”

Draco smiles. Of course Harry insists on going out to the forest to pick and cut the Christmas tree himself!

“Are you going to let the elves help decorate it this year?” he asks. “They were very disappointed to be left out last year, you know! Tobby asked me if you were planning on giving them clothes!”

Harry frowns for a moment. Then he smiles. “They can help,” he concedes. “But I get to spell on the lights!”

“I suppose that’s fair enough,” Draco says. “I’ll play for you while you work.”

He turns back to the piano, and Harry leans in behind him, placing a last, cold kiss at the nape of his neck. When he pulls away, he’s humming an old Christmas song. Draco easily picks up his tune and starts playing along.

**Author's Note:**

> You can leave a comment here or on [Livejournal](http://hd-erised.livejournal.com/36606.html). ♥


End file.
